


Empty Nights

by Meowsapow



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25438591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowsapow/pseuds/Meowsapow
Summary: Swank isn't a fool, but he's been played before, just like a fiddle. By the people he trusted most. How do you fill a hole like that?
Relationships: Male Courier/Swank
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Empty Nights

The New Vegas lights were blinding on the night Benny got away. It was an absolute hate crime, Swank thought, that he would just up and leave after leaving an unrevealing letter. Swank knew this about Benny, the look in his eye whenever he would waltz to his room. He knew something was up between those unfortunate sheets. Another empty night in Vegas.

He lit another cigarette.

"Hiya darlin." Swank snapped his head at the sound of that thick drawl, to the Courier himself. Out of his thoughts and into reality once again. A dashing man, but stuck out like a sore thumb in those dirty wastelander slacks. He remembers when they first met, he handed over his weapons. Pulling them out of places Swank didn't want to imagine.

At least, at first.

"Hey hey! What can the man do for you?" He asks, leaning over the counter. His eyes shift as the Courier slides a note towards him, his brow furrowing as he reads.

"Huh, he promised you all of that then scoot, eh? What a guy." He laughs after reading it. It was full of empty promises, same story Benny gives to every person. Even Swank.

The Courier smiles, but it doesn't reach their eyes. Swank clues in to this, he isn't some shmuck. But he can't put a finger as to why. What did he expect?

"Listen, and listen good. The traitor is swindling house, shooting couriers, and pulling the wool over your eyes darlin." He suddenly deadpans. They drop a platnium chip on the table.

"He'll be a sore loser when he finds this replaced halfway to the Fort, though."

Swank raised a brow. "What do you mean, swindled pussycat? He would neve-"

They drop a lighter on the table. The same lighter Benny claimed he lost "on a trip." The smoke falls from his mouth.

"Benny... swindling House? And you, that scar... that's from the ol' Ben man? He wouldn't... he couldn't..."

Feelings of betrayal swelled up in Swank. That no good, rotten, shady son of a-

The Courier reached an arm out to comfort Swank. "Listen sweetheart, its hard, I know. But the ol' fools played himself. I got the note, the smokes, the lighter. Hell, even the casing he used when he shot me if you want it." They speak lowly, softly. Their eyes then shift away from Swank.

"Perhaps we should take this somewhere more private."

Swank also becomes aware people are staring. He composes himself, and waves over a chairman to take his position. He leads the Courier back to his room, down the hall from Benny's. How many lonely nights was that man just a few steps away?

"Tell me, what happened between you two?" Swank finally asks, as they enter his room. The Courier helps himself to the bed, and sit on the edge.

"Well, you could tell from the note, couldn't ya? Knocking boots, bumpin uglies. The whole nine yards." They reply nonchalantly. Swank raises a brow, and feel a swell of jealousy in their heart.

"Wow uh pussycat, you're just an open book, huh?" He laughs nervously. The Courier props themself up on one arm as they lean across the bed. 

"Well, it ain't a secret from that letter. But he wasn't really my type." 

"What's your type then doll?" Swank asks, sitting next to him. He doesn't know why hes askin, why he's desperately reaching out to this Courier with his heart.

"The type that doesn't shoot me in the head."

"Oh..."

He smiles, and looks up at Swank. "Sorry, the joke fell flat. But in all honesty? A man I can spoil, cherish. I want to have something once all this is said and done."

Swank felt an out of character flutter. "Is that right?"

Then the Courier reaches up, and caresses a hand down Swanks cheek. "You know, all you'd have to do is sit and look pretty. Run your chairman, while I take care of Vegas."

A thousand thoughts ran through Swanks mind of betrayal, dishonesty, and quite frankly: fear. He didn't know the Courier's intentions, but his touch was so warm and the bed so soft...

"Not used to the one being spoiled! But I'd like that pussycat. I really would." He mutters softly, leaning down. The Courier's lips, almost as tender as the moment they shared. The hurt and feelings of Benny went away. And all that was left was this wanderer, who just waltzed his way into Swank's heart.

"Pussycat, do me a favour." Swank said, pulling away.

The Courier raised a brow expectantly. He swallowed his pride, and voiced his fears. 

"Don't leave me a letter."

The Courier nodded slowly. What it meant to Swank was "don't leave me another empty promise." But the look in the Courier's eyes said more. He felt it wouldn't be empty that night, or ever again.


End file.
